


A Few Harmless Words

by raus



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Awkwardness, Fluff, M/M, friendfic, friendshipping, fyeahcbsMiniBang2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 09:39:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11964723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raus/pseuds/raus
Summary: Isabela leaves Sebastian a raunchy, poorly illustrated manuscript depicting him and Fenris in some rather unwholesome acts, along with a vaguely threatening message that he must bring it up to Fenris or there will be more. Sebastian brings it to Fenris, but after struggling to read it aloud, their shared awkwardness only builds.





	A Few Harmless Words

A short knock on the door of Fenris’s manor went unheeded, reverberating through the empty space within. The night was cool, and oddly unnerving to Sebastian as he stood in front of Fenris’s door. His fingers ran over the edges of a small stack of papers in his hands, rubbing a spot into the corners. Knocking again, then again, Sebastian felt his cheeks warm as his mind returned to the papers’ contents. He really did not know why he had chosen to come, but the prospect of being the only one of the both of them to know what he held in his hands was not a kind one. Maker save him if Fenris found out he had kept it hidden.

After an uncomfortably long time of waiting for any note of life within, Sebastian had become increasingly aware of the stillness of the street behind him. He had always felt eyes on him during the Hightown nights during the times he would stray from the Chantry, though without the presence of Hawke and the others, Sebastian felt the darkness acutely. He leaned one hand against the door, testing it, and nearly jumped when it began to swing inward. The last time he had been here, he had waited rather impatiently as Hawke and Isabela dragged the broody elf outside to convince him to go on another one of Hawke little adventures. He’d had no idea the door wasn’t even locked.

Peeking around the door in spite of his better judgement, Sebastian noticed the state of emptiness and general disrepair the whole place was in, though none of what he saw surprised him save for a light shining out of one of the upper chambers.

“Did he not just hear me or…” Sebastian wondered aloud, stepping into the entryway enough for his voice to carry once he called out. “Fenris, I’ve something to uh… Are you here?”

No response came. He closed the door behind him, glancing around to see if there was a place he could leave the papers he had tucked under his arm. There was nothing he would feel comfortable with placing anything on. Nowhere he might leave something to be seen. He took an unsteady step forward, his heart beating in his throat, and jumped when he heard Fenris from above.

“Isn't it a sin to enter without permission?”

“Well I wouldn't have if I'd known.... I seem to be unwelcome,” Sebastian offered, retreating away from the sight of Fenris at the top of the stairs. He stuck a hand out to his side, waving behind him. “I'll just…. Go.”

“No need,” Fenris replied. He leaned against the wall at the top of the stairs, clad in his usual armor, save for the spiked gauntlets. Sebastian could not make out any expression on his face with the only light in the mansion illuminating Fenris from behind. “Whatever is important enough to bring you here without Hawke must be urgent. I would not expect you to sully your Chantry boy reputation by leaving the Chantry so late past dark, unless it was dire. Do we need to fetch Hawke?”

“Maker, no!” Sebastian barked rather too loudly. Fenris stood straight, taking a step down the stairs. Sebastian could almost detect a note of concern in the elf’s voice. Already Sebastian could feel his cheeks reddening. Shuffling his feet, he regained his composure and shook his head.

“There's no need,” he said, echoing Fenris’s words. “This is a matter to be settled by ourselves. As in, the two of us, I mean. No Hawke, no Varric, very much no Isabela.”

Fenris gave a huff, then motioned behind him.

“Very well, then if there is no dire need for a fight you may come where the light is better.”

Sebastian glanced back at the door, the wish to leave now and never speak of this encounter again surfacing in his mind, but he pushed himself to follow Fenris into the lighted room upstairs.

“I see you uh, waste no effort on unused space?” he asked as he reached the top of the stairs. Pausing in the doorway, he took a moment to steel himself before he realized Fenris had sat down already at the large table toward the other end of the room.

“I need no trappings to serve my needs,” Fenris answered, “Unlike you, I was not raised a prince. I make do with what I must.”

Fenris looked back and saw Sebastian standing still in the doorway. His eyes followed Sebastian’s crooked arm to land on the stack of papers he held against him. At this, Sebastian blushed again, but stepped forward. He was unsure whether to wait for an invitation, so he stopped closer to the fire. When Fenris motioned to the chair closest before him, Sebastian gratefully sat with his back to the fire.

“So what is so urgent that we must meet in secret at night, away from the prying eyes of Hawke's friends?”

Sebastian could feel Fenris’s eyes on his face. He set the papers down, sliding one forward for Fenris to look at.

“I wish I could say something more than that I found these, but they're rather intimate in their… contents… I would rather this remain as much a secret as it could between us.”

Sebastian couldn't bear looking Fenris directly in the eyes, so he stared pointedly down at the paper. He could make out a few words, something lude, incredibly vulgar. 

“I've a mind that Varric has been spinning tales of the two of us. I couldn't bear to even read this in--it was left where I would find it, in the chantry! I only hope the Maker can forgive me for being party to this… thing.”

Glancing up finally, Sebastian saw Fenris caught in a rare moment of confusion, his brows knit with concern. He blinked, then with one finger pulled the page offered him close enough to focus on the drawings scattered about the edges of the page. Fenris’s lips thinned as he stared. Sebastian waited for him to say something, but felt all the more a fool when Fenris did reply.

“Are you going to read them to me, or sit there all night burning in shame?”

“Ah, you uh,” Sebastian began, then caught himself. Shifting his eyes to the side, he fingered the pages in his hands as though they burned his skin through the gloves he wore.

“I cannot read, no. A literate slave is often more of a liability than a boon,” Fenris filled in the silence. He pushed back the page Sebastian had slid toward him, but Sebastian could almost detect a hint of a smile on the man’s lips. “Judging by the illustrations, I would say Isabela had her hand on this, no? I may guess as to its nature, though it would be easier to simply hear it for myself.

Sebastian declined to answer, instead shaking his head and closing his eyes. He shook his head. Pressing fingers to his temples, he drew in a slow breath through his nose. Of course he would have to read it.

“I might have thought better than to bring this to you then,” Sebastian finally managed. “I can't think this would be pleasant to hear, given that you--neither of us had any say in the matter. I hadn't thought, really.”

“Hadn't thought the slave wouldn't be able to read this manuscript? What has Varric written of us then? It must be something slanderous, for I've never heard you say so many words with barely a mention of the Maker.”

“I have…. admittedly never encountered such a thing. The Maker has nothing to do with such filth.”

“I thought the Maker had a plan for everything, filth included” Fenris pushed. Sebastian glanced up to meet his gaze. He couldn't tell if Fenris was accusing him of hypocrisy or if he had made the comment in good faith. Either prospect unsettled Sebastian. Fenris was reacting in almost the exact opposite way he had expected, and the intensity with which he was pursuing the matter made him worry whether he really had made a mistake in coming, once again.

Sebastian let the tension leave his shoulders, slumping back against the chair. Skimming the page in his hands, he realized he might not need to read the words themselves if he could satisfy Fenris with an explanation.

“I see you have been thinking on our conversations. Of course you have. If you must know, it's all lies, painting the two of us as rather more intimate than we are. Or have ever been. I simply thought it should be brought to your attention that there are words being written of us… of us being engaged in…. Well, of things happening that…. The Maker would definitely not approve of.”

He watched as Fenris nodded, peering at Sebastian through steepled fingers. Sebastian realized this was perhaps the first time he had seen Fenris without his clawed gauntlets. Even on the rare occasion he had been dragged to the Hanged Man to sit uncomfortably through plans made over many mugs of ale, Fenris had never taken them off. Sebastian really had caught Fenris in a vulnerable moment. The guilt he had felt over discovering the pages of lewd material resurfaced, and he attempted to backtrack and escape any further scrutiny.

“We could simply burn them and leave it at that, really. It’s nothing to concern ourselves with--”

“The Maker does not approve of many things, but I won't know unless you read them.”

“Ah, it’s just a few harmless words,” Sebastian pleaded, “Nothing to them, Fenris, no need to make anything of it.”

Fenris gave a short huff, almost a laugh, then said, “You I would expect least to say such a thing with ‘intimate’ words, written as lies nonetheless.”

Sebastian said nothing, but only stared harder at the page and groaned.

“Go on then,” Fenris urged, taking a swig of the wine in his bottle. At some point he’d poured a glass for Sebastian, which still sat untouched. Eyeing Sebastian, he kicked up his feet and leaned back in his chair.

Sebastian could very well feel the heat of the fire on his back, and he shifted uneasily before picking a spot and reading silently. He could not make up his mind whether the heat of the fire or the heat on his cheeks was worse, or whether the heat of Fenris’s eyes was what made him flinch so as he spoke aloud.

“Andraste save me, I'm going to wither just reading this. Do I really have to, Fenris?”

“You are the one who came to me, you cannot just leave me with a page I cannot read. You said yourself you wanted this to remain between us, else I would need to go to Hawke to find out what it says.”

“N-no! No, I'll… I'll read it…. But you have to know I'm only bringing this to you so that we know what vulgar things have been written about us by our very companions. I take no pleasure in this, Fenris.”

No pleasure, indeed. The heat that burned him was excruciating, not even taking into account the shame.

“I'll just… start here… No need for the whole thing, I don't even know where it would start. They were all out of order anyway.

“‘Fenris took Sebastian into his arms, eyes staring deep into the prince’s own. “I have waited a long time to tell you this, my prince. You are my one true love.” The pointy elf--’ oh really now? ‘The pointy elf pushed against the prince and pinned him to the wall, bracing him with one hand and--’ Oh dear. ‘Bracing him with one hand and rubbing the other down the prince’s… The elf gripped the prince’s hair and tugged his head back to expose his throat. Teeth scraping against skin, the elf made his way down to the prince’s bare chest and…’ Oh. ‘...and kneeled before him. His clawed hands tore the belt off and exposed the...’ Well, the… Oh no, I can’t.”

Fenris made no comment, but shifted in his seat. Sebastian dreaded knowing what was going through Fenris’s mind at that moment. He couldn't stop thinking of the image. As lacking in details and as awkward as the scene was, he could imagine Fenris doing just that--pinning him to the wall with a knee between his legs, hands clinging to his arse. The heat he felt was unbearable, but moving would solve nothing. He grit his teeth and read on, skipping the “finely rounded arse.”

“‘“Fenris,” the prince crooned, “I have lain away aching for you. Every night I pray the Maker will send you to my bed.” His lust-filled blue orbs stared down deep into the elf’s emerald gaze. “Bring me to the Maker, Choir Boy,” the brooding elf said lustily, his rumbling voice sending shivers down Se--’ my, uh, oh Maker.”

Fenris stopped him, tapping his fingers lightly against the table. “Are you paraphrasing, or is that what was really written? I highly doubt either of them would really write that.”

“Reading!” Sebastian retorted, smoothing out the paper onto the table. He stabbed a word with his finger. “Right there, it says ‘Choir Boy.’ That means Varric wrote it. And-and Isabela had to have… Well I mean it’s a lot of what she would say, isn’t it? And who ever would think Isabela is good with words anyway? She’s always so vulgar for no reason.”

“It doesn’t matter who wrote it, it matters what it says. And she would say there is a reason, wouldn’t she? But read on.”

Sebastian furrowed his brows, but returned to the page.

“‘...shivers down Sebastian’s spine. His already… already hard… started to…. Fenris slid his hand down Sebastian’s pants, pulling them all the way down, and gripped… the prince’s….’ Oh. Oh no. You can fill in the rest can't you?”

“No. You've told me yourself you whored before you ‘found the Maker,’ so is a single fiction too much to bear?”

Fenris’s voice was calm still, playful even. Sebastian could feel himself growing uncomfortably hard under his armor, as if the imagining was bringing fiction to life. He could not tell if the scene or the real situation of him reading the words alone with Fenris was what stirred him, but he pushed aside that thought. He had read some of it before coming, of course, but it had been slightly easier to ignore the physical reaction when Fenris was not sitting across from him, staring into him as he clutched the papers.

“But, but it was wrong, and I’ve moved onward from that dreadful point in my life.” If only he could convince himself of that now. It wouldn’t have been so dreadful in his memories now had perhaps those memories contained faces more familiar, a voice more contained, more quiet. “And I’ve never been with…”

“Men? It’s not that difficult, or different.” Another glance upward revealed Fenris had ceased to look at Sebastian, and was staring hard into the pages on the table with his head resting in one hand. He did not add anything more.

“It’s not that I… have never thought about... Well, it’s… It’s not a simple thing.”

Sebastian set the paper down, feeling another sort of foolish. It was true he had thought of men before, but he had never done anything untoward with a man. He wondered if Fenris had. As soon as his mind reached the notion of Fenris with another man, he pushed those thoughts aside. Sebastian had wondered before what sort of things Fenris might have been forced to do as a slave. He did not want to broach any topic that made Fenris remember any forced actions, but he did wonder at the meaning of Fenris’s comment. It had been made as if it was as normal a thing to speak of as any other topic, like the day’s journey, or how many mercenaries they had taken down in the last battle.

“It’s not just that I’ve never had any experiences like that, it’s more that I feel implicated in breaching your boundaries. That’s the entire reason I brought this to you tonight, Fenris, even if I hadn’t really realized it fully until now. I don’t want you to think I had anything to do with the writing of something neither of us had any say in. It’s revolting, pushing something like this on us and forcing us to speak of it.”

Fenris looked up, his hand falling to the table. “How are we being forced to speak of it?”

“Oh.” Sebastian’s voice faltered. “W-well, there was a note. In Isabela’s handwriting. ‘If this is destroyed without being read, I will know, and there will be more. You’ve been warned.’ Something like that. I could only imagine what she might say tomorrow if I hadn’t come to speak to you. Or what if she made you believe I wrote it! Maker, I could not bear it.”

Fenris blinked, saying nothing. For an excruciatingly long moment, Sebastian watched him and worried he might have become angry, but just as Sebastian tore his gaze from Fenris’s face, he heard a low chuckle escape from Fenris.

“You were worried about what I might think? About you? That’s all?”

“Well, worried about her saying something in front of Hawke and the others,” Sebastian admitted. “I did not want you or I to be called out in front of everyone, like I would expect her to do. This is a… a private matter, not to be settled in public. And I would rather you not think I have any unwelcome intentions toward you.”

Fenris stilled and the amusement fell from his face.

“I… do admit I appreciate that. You are… thoughtful, Sebastian.”

Sebastian felt the blush creeping onto his face again. He nodded, then he asked, “Does it bother you, Fenris?”

“No,” Fenris replied simply. “You?”

“Only for the reason I already named. I find it in bad taste. Why do you think they even wrote such a thing?”

Fenris looked away, his eyes resting on a spot between the two of them. He did not say anything, but seemed to wait for Sebastian to answer his own question. While Sebastian shifted in his chair, Fenris sat still, only his eyes moving as his gaze drew closer to the pages on the table.

“Obviously they have some sort of motive, though why they would be so blatant about it…” Sebastian laughed nervously. He had pushed the conversation toward the very place he did not want it to go. “And why? I do not understand.”

“Why would you not wish to make me uncomfortable?” Fenris asked, unprompted. He returned his feet to the floor and leaned forward into the table, a hand balanced on the wood.

“I… do not know how you want me to answer that,” Sebastian responded. He frowned. “You are a good man, Fenris. You do not deserve to be placed in any position that would force you to respond in a way someone else has designed, without your consent. It almost feels to me to be forcing you to commit the actions written, like you are being forced into a sexual situation you do not approve of.”

“I never said I did not approve of anything written there,” Fenris commented, shutting Sebastian up completely. “Though it would probably be best to not attempt any sliding of hands down any pants without first a more candid conversation. But… I do appreciate the sentiment.”

An awkward smile crossed Sebastian’s face, and he ducked his head down to hide his expression. He had definitely not expected Fenris to be so open to sexual concepts, and especially not to anything including Sebastian.

“It makes you uncomfortable, reading explicit sexual fiction,” Fenris offered, a smile playing on his lips. “Or does it make you uncomfortable, with me being the object of your fictional affections?”

“Yes, no. I mean, not that it’s you, but that it’s just so bad,” Sebastian insisted. “Even I can tell that.”

Fenris once again laughed, leaning back into the chair. Another long moment passed in which the two of them sat in silence. This time, the comfortable air between them did not pass. Sebastian realized he had begun to relax finally in Fenris’s presence. Fenris seemed to be thinking along the same lines, as he voiced a similar thought.

“Yes, bad. I would never call you ‘Choir Boy’ as a prelude to sex. I cannot fathom how that could be meant to flatter, let alone arouse.”

Sebastian laughed, his head tilting back against the chair. “And I would never call you a ‘pointy elf’ and expect it to fuel the mood. I should hope that they don’t really expect us to behave like that. They got our characters all wrong.”

“Indeed,” Fenris added, pausing before continuing in a more reserved manner, “If we were to really do anything of the sort, I would be much less inclined to speak and much more inclined to simply touch.”

“Oh.” Sebastian let the smile fade from his face. He avoided Fenris’s gaze. “You… sound like you would consider, seriously, I mean.”

“I would,” Fenris said, making Sebastian’s heart skip a beat. “I am glad you did come tonight. However embarrassing it is to have played right into their trap, I think it was good to speak together, alone. About this.”

It was good to simply speak together, Sebastian noted. He also noted the fact that Fenris had agreed so easily, and simply.

“I agree. Perhaps… Perhaps we might speak again, in less awkward of a situation? It is late, and if I remember correctly, Hawke wanted us to meet him in Darktown early.” Sebastian sucked in a breath, then continued, “I would… appreciate having some time to think.”

“I believe I would as well,” Fenris agreed. “Perhaps we might meet again and speak of our own thoughts, not only those presented for us. I… may not be ready to continue this conversation at the present, but I do not think I would be opposed to continuing it again in the future, given some time for thought.”

Sebastian sank back against the chair, realizing the discomforting arousal he had felt earlier had already subsided. Speaking again would be good. Fenris rose, prompting Sebastian to rise as well. Sheepishly, he gave a weak smile and shrugged his shoulders.

“I shall… see you tomorrow then? Fenris?”

“Yes.”

Sebastian took a slow look over at the papers, having had forgotten them in the midst of their more serious conversation.

“Should I…?”

“Leave them,” Fenris suggested. “Perhaps another time, we could finish them and see just how badly they portrayed us.”

“I… suppose....” Sebastian winced. He took a step toward the door, but stopped and turned toward Fenris again. “But I wish you a good night, Fenris. Thank you, for speaking so plainly about this.”

Fenris nodded, then he gave a very subtle smile, barely visible in the flickering light from the fireplace.

“Good night, Sebastian. Let us speak again.”

The return trip out of the mansion was incredibly less painful than the first. Once Sebastian had exited the mansion, he sighed in relief. The promise of speaking again with Fenris filled him with a comfort he had not expected. Surely nothing this night had been expected, even more so the result of it all. Nothing they said had alluded explicitly to the unspoken expectation that their talking again might amount to more than talk, though Sebastian could not hope for anything at this point. He ruffled a hand through his hair and let out a frustrated huff.

“Maker, but it was terrible,” he whispered to himself. He laughed outright at the idea of the terrible fiction, but the smile did not leave his face even after he began his walk back through the cool Hightown night.


End file.
